


that way lies bliss

by soliari



Category: Kamen Rider Gaim
Genre: Birthday Party, Established Relationship, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-17 17:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2317145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soliari/pseuds/soliari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kouta nearly forgets his birthday, in the wake of the Hejika Inves. Mai ushers Kaito into having other plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	that way lies bliss

**Author's Note:**

> originally i wrote this for kouta's birthday but then i got sidetracked and then the show started sucking so i just finished it up and now i'm posting it lmao
> 
> established relationship bc i'm too lazy for setup. this is half a gift for my wife rachel, sorry i'm months late, wife.

Kouta had had _plans_ for his birthday, this year. Twenty had been a bash, as befit a big birthday--he could barely remember it, that counted as a success in his opinion--but twenty-one was supposed to be his first _adult_ birthday, out with his girlfriend instead of opening up Gaim's HQ and having the loud kind of parties that had characterized his late teens. By the time his birthday actually comes around, though, he isn't really in the mood to celebrate it. The Driver is ruining more than just the _city's_ peace.

In fact, he barely remembers his birthday at all, until Akira asks if he wants anything special for dinner, if he's not going out to celebrate, and he has to scurry to text Mai and ask if she wants to come over.

_Kouta! You have plans for tonight. With me! ♥ Be ready at 5:30. Look nice, but no suit!_

And so it is that Kouta winds up on Kaito Kumon's impeccable couch with Mai flitting around between the kitchen and the living room with a cup of bright pink something in her hands. Kaito's been--well, Kaito, really--all night, but he hasn't gone off about Kouta being ridiculous in like twenty minutes, which is a victory. (At the same time, he's been in the kitchen with Mai for like ten of those, so maybe it isn't _really_ an accomplishment.) "Guys," he calls, uncertainly, drumming his fingertips on the the sweaty glass of something orange and barely alcoholic. "What're you... doing?"

"Just-wait-one more second, Kouta!" Mai calls, the back of her head barely visible over the kitchen counter. Kaito says something Kouta can't make out, and Mai laughs. "Okay," she says, after a minute. Her voice swells with triumph. "Close your eyes!"

"Uh," Kouta says, and dutifully does so. "Okay... they're closed..."

Even with his eyes shut, he can tell when the lights have been turned off, and after a minute of whispered back-and-forth, he can hear Mai's short steps nearing the coffee table.

"Okay, you can open them," she says.

He opens his eyes, feeling a little like a trained monkey. "...woah!" he says, leaning forward to look down at the cake, lit with a pair of number candles, on the coffee table. "Mai, it's awesome!" Then he turns his head toward where she's kneeling next to the coffee table. "Is it Charmant?" He sounds suspicious, and he can barely make out Kaito rolling his eyes by the light of the candles.

He can also see Mai's pout forming, and he winces, lifting his hands defensively. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding! Thank you for the cake."

She huffs, just a little. "I made it, for your information," she says, before Kaito leans in out of nowhere and points to the candles. "What, Kaito?"

"If you want to eat wax, that's all well and good, but I think you worked too hard on it to ruin it," he says, and swipes his thumb over the wax dripping down the side of the 1 candle. He reaches for a napkin to wipe it off before it cools.

"Ah," Mai says, leaning on the table. She frowns at Kouta again, but then Kaito's free hand finds her shoulder, and she looks up at him. After a moment, she seems to relax, and turns back toward Kouta, a bashful tilt to her eyelashes. Quietly, she begins to sing the birthday song.

Kouta goes still, watching her watch him, and when the last note ends, he leans forward, putting his palm to the coffee table in order to blow out the candles. The living room goes eerily dark without the flickering light of the candles to play off of the somewhat distant light flooding from the kitchen, but Kouta doesn't need to see in order to slide calloused fingertips along Mai's jaw and kiss her, softly. Mai makes a soft, fond noise, and when he pulls back, she's smiling, cheeks pink.

"Happy birthday, Kouta!" she says.

"Thanks, Mai," he says, looking her in the eye, and winces when the room's lights flick back on. He looks up, over Mai's head, to catch Kaito turning back from the panel, and smiles at him, too. "Thanks, Kaito."

"Don't thank me, Kazuraba. It's not like she took no for an answer," he grumbles, putting his hands back in his pockets. (His pants are plain black--Kouta hadn't even known Kaito _owned_ anything besides the same outfit ten times over. He'd say as much, but he's pretty sure Kaito had his belt on him.) Kaito looks down at Mai as he nears, eyebrows high with reproach. Mai tips her head up to look at him, her hands settled across Kouta's knee.

"You didn't have to volunteer to cook dinner," she says, "but you did, so stop acting like I had to make you do anything!"

"When the alternative was 'let you burn my kitchen down', I would say you forced my hand."

"Ooooh, you--I wouldn't burn your kitchen down! My stir-fry is _fantastic!_ "

Mai half-rises, turning toward Kaito as he settles himself in the armchair, and she's already working herself into a froth. Kouta would let her go, would let them work it out with an argument that felt like foreplay, but things have been too nice to ruin. On impulse Kouta leans forward, gathering her in his arms. "Mai," he says, a note of desperation edging into his voice, "c'mon, let it go. He's just being Kaito."

There's a moment where she's tense and still, and he thinks she's going to push it, but then she sighs out. "Fine," she says, "the hot pot was better than my stir fry, anyway."

"Well, I don't know about _that_ ," Kouta says, leaning his cheek against her hip and making eyes at her. She laughs, trailing her fingers over his forehead and brushing his hair aside, and they lapse into silence in the thirty seconds it takes for Kaito to gather the will to pointedly clear his throat, looking away. Kouta thinks he might be flushed.

Smug that Kaito still hasn't managed to banish his bashfulness, Kouta peels himself slowly back from Mai's hip. "We should eat the cake," he says, turning between them with his eyebrows up. It would certainly be better than letting them bicker about things like who was a better cook.

"Right," Mai says, straightening up. She dusts her hands together as she looks around. "Plates, forks... Oh, we forgot the knife. I'll be right back!" Then she's gone, and Kouta leans his elbow on his thigh. He slides his eyes over toward Kaito, his mouth lifting into a smile. Kaito snorts, lifting his chin so he can look down his nose at Kouta.

"Mai, I don't think we really need one," Kouta calls, pitching his voice toward the kitchen but still carefully watching Kaito, and reaches out to swipe his finger in the white frosting. Kaito's jaw moves, but he doesn't speak, and Kouta leans back, even more smug than before, as he sucks his fingertip into his mouth, licking off the sweet frosting. It's still in his mouth when Mai returns from the kitchen, and there's a moment when she's standing there with a knife in her hand and looking mildly murderous when Kouta wonders if this was one of his better plans.

"Let me cut it," she says.

"But it's just the three of us, right?" Kouta points out, and plucks up a fork. He scoops up a bit of cake and shoves it in his mouth over her objections, and when she returns to the table, the knife clattering onto the tabletop so she can slide her knee on the couch and grab for his arm, he takes his chance, ducking under her so she's only seeing his back. She shrieks when he spears another piece of cake, but when he sits up it's not _his_ mouth he's going for.

"Kou--mmph!" Mai is apparently finding it difficult to complain with a mouth full of cake and frosting. She bats Kouta's hand away in order to slide the fork from her mouth, and holds it just out of reach as she swallows. "You're supposed to eat a _piece_ of the cake," she says, pointing the fork at him. "You're going to make a mess on Kaito's table."

"Only if you keep wiggling while I get the cake," Kouta answers, and reaches for the fork in her hand. She jerks it away, tipping sideways, and after two more fruitless reaches, Kouta catches something out of the corner of his eye. He looks up to see Kaito leaning forward--probably to grab Kouta's still half-full cup before Mai's foot catches it--and on impulse, Kouta leans forward to grab for Kaito's wrist.

He manages it, and Kaito freezes, staring between Kouta's fingers banded across his wrist and Kouta's smug face. His scowl is as confused as it is irritated. "What, Kazuraba?" he asks, sounding testy.

"Mai," Kouta says, locking eyes with Kaito. "Kaito needs some cake," he says, not looking at her.

"Huh?" Mai says, from out of sight, and then seems to get it. "Oooooh! Right, cake coming up, Kaito!"

"I don't want cake," Kaito complains, as she leans forward to snag a bite with the fork--all complaints about pieces put aside for this, apparently--and stands up to grab his chin. "I don't like desserts," he says, and screws his mouth shut.

"One bite is _not_ going to kill you," Mai says, and leans down, until they're nose to nose. She catches his eye, sliding her hand against his jaw, but he remains unmoved. She glances sideways at Kouta, mouth a bow of amusement, and turns back to kiss Kaito softly. Kaito tenses under Kouta's palm, and she pulls back to let him breathe. He sputters, which frankly Kouta thinks is a bit much, given that she's definitely kissed him before, but then Mai interrupts him by shoving the fork in his mouth. She leans back, clearly pleased with herself, as the fork hangs out of Kaito's mouth underneath the most ineffectual glare Kaito has ever mustered. He reaches up with his free hand to pull it out of his mouth, and he chews and swallows.

"Your frosting needs a little work," he finally says, and it's Mai's turn to sputter. She reaches out to get into it with Kaito, who rears up to snap back, and Kouta, squawking, pulls Kaito's wrist to try and keep them apart. What comes next goes too quickly for him to do much about, but it ends with Kaito wrist-deep in the cake, trying not to fall on the coffee table.

"...oh," Mai says, and squats to grab a napkin. "Here, Kaito, I'm sorry--"

Kaito peels his hand out of the cake and finally slides his knee on the table so he can stand up. "Don't," he says, warning clear in his tone when she tries to wipe his hand clean. "I said _don't_ ," he repeats, when she reaches again.

"Let me get the worst of it, at least," Mai says, her hand hanging in the air between them uselessly.

"I am capable of washing my own hands," Kaito says, firm.

Kouta intervenes, loudly. " _I'll_ get it," he announces, and rocks to his feet. Kaito and Mai both blink at him, and he takes his chance, snagging Kaito's wrist again and pulling it up so he can lick a stripe of the crumbled cake and frosting off of Kaito's palm.

Kaito freezes, his eyes lowered toward the dent in the cake still sticking to his fingers and hand. Mai, by contrast, is staring at _Kouta_ as he wipes frosting off of his chin and licks it off. He ignores them until he's satisfied he doesn't have a frosting goatee, then--"it's my cake, and I wanted to eat it," he says, all false innocence. That's what seems to shatter Kaito's reverie, and he shakes himself off.

"I'm going to--wash up," he says, and Kouta graciously ignores how paper-thin that excuse is since it's very clear that he's fleeing. He's turning red, even, not that he seems to have noticed. He disappears down the hall toward the bathroom.

Mai pauses as he leaves, and then turns her body back toward Kouta, holding the napkin between her hands carefully. "You have frosting on your nose," she says, her voice level, and then goes up on tip-toe to wipe it off, her cool small hand holding his chin still until she's satisfied. She leans back on her heels, and Kouta bends sideways to swipe his fingers through the frosting again.

This time he dots his fingertip on her lower lip. "You have some on your mouth," he says, sidling closer to frame her feet with his own. Her hands find his chest.

"You _put_ it there, Kouta! So... what are you going to do about it?" she asks, laughter lacing her voice, and Kouta leans down to kiss it off. She gasps when his tongue traces the curve of her lower lip, and she forces her way into his mouth, kissing him with determination. Her hands curl in the fabric of his buttondown, and he finds her hips, gingerly.

They spend a long few minutes kissing, but finally Kouta pulls back, breath coming a little harder. "Where's Kaito," he asks, looking around.

Mai frowns, and steps back. "I'll get him," she says, and looks down at the cake. It's a giant mess, though it appears to have managed to stay _mostly_ on the platter.

"And I'll get the cake," he decides, sitting back down to grab napkins. "Don't get too distracted in there," he says, as she moves around the table. "Or, you know, call me, if you are!"

"Shut up and wipe up the cake, Kouta," Mai calls back, as she turns the corner. Kouta sighs. They were gonna go at it for _sure_.

It's a long couple of minutes after that--he's listening carefully, and though he hears one thump that makes his eyes narrow, and then the low harshness-bright confidence that was the clear sign of an argument, Kouta stays put, especially once he hears Mai laugh about something. Better to let them sort it out now.

Finally, Mai reappears, holding Kaito's hand between both of hers. Kouta's finished wiping up the cake and tossed out the used napkins. He lifts his now-full glass to them both, and gestures to the couch. "How about we try it again?" he asks, warm.

"How about we do presents before the cake winds up down someone's shirt," Mai counters, and leans her cheek against Kaito's shoulder to laugh up at him.

"If one of you shoves cake down my shirt, you'll be paying for drycleaning," Kaito answers, stiff. He lifts the gift bag in his free hand--clearly Mai wrapped it, as the bag is blue and the tissue peeking out is orange, but there's a red ribbon tied on the braided handle.

"Happy birthday, Kouta," Mai says, plucking the bag from Kaito's dangling fingers and setting it in his hands.

Kouta puts it on the table, carefully, and peels tissue paper out of the bag, not at _all_ carefully. He doesn't remember asking for anything in particular... "You put enough tissue paper in here?" he teases, as he peels the second sheet of tissue paper out.

Beneath the tissue paper are a pair of boxes, wrapped in plain gold paper, and Kouta lays them both out so he can go from little to big. As he gets older he gets more used to the idea that big things can go in little packages--but bigger packages are fun to open. He tears the paper and ignores Kaito's face. A man's wrapping paper tearing strategies were not the kind of thing he was getting into an argument about. "Woah," he says, as he lifts a wood and leather bracelet out of the mostly-plain black box. "This is _awesome_ ," he says, holding the bracelet against his bare off-wrist.

"I matched it to your hoodie," Mai says, uncertainly. "You like it?"

"I love it," Kouta says, and after a moment more of playing with the clasp and the blue and brown beads, he lays it carefully back inside the box so he can look at the other one.

"That one's from Kaito," Mai says, clearly ignoring Kaito shooting her the look that meant 'shut up'. Kouta pops the tape on one end with a rough pull down, and turns it over to continue tearing it

"You didn't have to get me anything," he says, to Kaito.

"I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to host your birthday party in my apartment, Kazuraba," Kaito says, leaning again on Kouta's last name. 

Kouta hums, like he buys 'politeness' as having anything to do with Kaito's decision to buy him a present. (Which he does not.) He peels the paper all the way off, to reveal another black box with a designer label on it. "Kaito..." he says, suspiciously, and pops open the box. He nearly drops the top, gasping. "You didn't," he says, reaching inside to brush his fingers over the surface of a wood-carved orange Lockseed on a leather cord. Carefully, he pulls it out of the box.

He looks up at Kaito, touched. Kaito looks back, level. "You broke me out of the tower," he says, "consider it payback."

"You paid that back," Kouta says, then--"but... thank you. It's awesome."

"It should hang lower than the bead necklace," Kaito continues, and he _definitely_ looks bashfully shame-faced now. Then he jerks, turning toward Mai. "What was _that_ for?!" Kouta can see him rubbing at his butt, and smothers snickering in his fist.

"Well, otherwise how long are you going to stand here looking like a schoolgirl?" she asks, and puts her arm around his back to pull him along.

"The armchair is fine," Kaito begins.

"Yes, because staying out of arm's reach worked so well before," Mai teases. She marches him closer to the couch, and he seems to give in, shaking her off to settle on the couch cushion, thigh lined up with Kouta's.

" _Much_ better," Mai purrs, and moves to slide past Kouta's knees, ostensibly to put herself between his hip and the couch arm. Instead, Kouta hooks his arm around her waist and turns her so he can pull her into his lap. She goes willingly enough, though it comes with a small shriek of laughter and the wind blowing out of Kouta's lungs from her shoulder hitting his chest. Without pause, she lifts her feet and hangs her calves over Kaito's lap, a certain smugness warming her expression as she slides her arm around Kouta's shoulder to tangle in the hair at the back of his neck.

He leans down to press a kiss against her ear, her jaw, her cheek, and then her chin, her lower lip, as she turns her head under his mouth. "Kouta," she says, half giggling, "stop, you - Kaito's feeling left out!"

That stops him, his mouth half an inch from hers, and he drags up, arm tight around her back so she doesn't fall over as he twists up, hand trailing across the smooth fabric of Kaito's dress shirt, skewed sideways from how he's turned, just a little, toward Kouta. His expression is flat, purposefully unreadable, but Kouta doesn't miss the flicker of his eyes over Kouta's face, lingering on his mouth, down the line of his throat. Kouta smiles, pulling on the collar until Kaito leans forward with a complaint on his lips as Kouta kisses _him_ , too.


End file.
